Holding On and Letting Go

              Change is inevitable.  But the knowledge of inevitability doesn’t make it any easier.  Often the prospect of change looms above like a dark cloud as I stand below, fearful of the coming downpour. 

            Whenever I begin to sense a shift in my life, my idols seem to rise to the surface.  And those idols are usually people.  I place heavy expectations on those I love, afraid that I might lose them in the ever-flowing river of life.  Afraid the relationships I’ve formed are just a product of shared time and space.  Afraid they won’t last. 

            So, I squeeze my hands shut.  No one can leave if I hold on tight enough.  Right? 

            The process of becoming the man I want to be is tough.  Being what those I love need doesn’t always mean I get what I want.  Sometimes it means loosening the grip.  Sometimes it means letting go altogether.  And it hurts.  Sometimes more than I care to admit.  Sometimes more than I show.  Everything inside of me cries out for permanence. 

            The relationships I pour into, I pour so much of myself into, sometimes until I wear myself right out.  And maybe that’s why it’s so hard when those relationships fade.  I don’t think I ever truly get over a lost friendship.  Because I put so much work into my friendships and I invest so much time and effort, when it’s gone, it takes a little piece with me.

            But it’s not about me.  A tough lesson to learn.  

An even tougher one is: it’s not even just about them.  This life isn’t just about the ones I love.      

            There’s a greater relationship.  There’s a greater purpose.  All other relationships and purposes in my life need to flow from this one central location.  Of course, I’m talking about God.  Without Him everything is meaningless.  I forget this so easily but He is always faithful to remind me.

            There’s a saying, “If you love them, let them go.”

But the question isn’t so much; “Do you love them enough to be willing to let them go?” but “Do you love Me enough to be willing to let them go?  Am I enough for you?”

Everything inside of me cries for permanence.  And permanence is only found in One.  Only One is sufficient to meet everything I need.

The irony in loving people more than God is that you love them less.  When God is your first love, you are freed to love them in a capacity otherwise impossible.

And this is the goal.

Past, present, and future friends, I pray that I have loved and will love God far more than you, granting me the ability to love you so much more than I am capable of.